The Bennett Boys

CHAPTER 14

The engine of Lucas's Bugatti revs as I walk towards his car in the driveway.

When I hung up with Bridget, Teddy asked me what the call was about. I simply told him that his mom had asked Lucas to drive me to the printing shop, but he seemed bothered by it.

I pull open the door of Lucas's car, but he's looking out the rearview mirror with a scowled expression on his face. Dammit, does he have to smell so good? Or look that hot when he's making a face like that?

He has his left hand on the wheel as his right arm sits on the center console, and I wait for him to look at me after I slide in. I close the door shut, but all he does is step on the gas, and we exit the driveway.

We're 5 minutes into the ride, not a word spoken, when I decide to break the silence.

"Thanks for driving me," I concede as he looks straight ahead.

"I didn't have much of a choice in the matter," he says back, and even though his insulting tone slices through me, I choose to look past it.

"Well, I'm sorry if it messed up your day," I say.

"As a matter of fact, it did." His tone is so harsh that I almost regret my words.

"You know, would it kill you to be nice? Just for a few minutes?"

"You're not exactly a ray of sunshine, good girl," he tells me.

"Good girl?" I repeat. "Don't call me that."

"So, you're not a good girl?"

"Why do you have to label me as good or bad? You don't even know me."

"Like I said from night one, I don't have to know you to call it how it is."

"Which is what exactly? Enlighten me, please."

"C'mon, Lily. You dress like you're having dinner with The Kennedys. And you're so focused on being perfect that you forget how you actually want to act."

Okay, maybe I am focused on being perfect, but I've always been that way. Because I've had to be. Life wasn't just handed to me. Unlike Lucas, I don't have access to opportunities because of my last name. I have to work for what I want. But he's not getting the satisfaction of being right, so I contest.

"You couldn't be more wrong."

He chuckles condescendingly. "Sure, good girl. Sure."

I shut my eyes and breathe out in annoyance. "Can you just pull over?"

"No. We're still 5 minutes away."

"Yeah, and I'd rather walk." Lucas doesn't say anything but keeps driving. "Unlock the door, Lucas."

"No, Lily. You're being ridiculous." I start to fidget with the lock, and he snaps his head at me for a brief second, reaching for my arm. "Are you kidding me right now? The car is in drive. You can't just unlock the door like that."

"Then. Pull. Over," I seethe, and he glowers at me.

"No," he states, continuing to drive until we get to our destination.

I finally walk into the printing shop and the man working the desk hands me a massive envelope with the sign inside. Easy enough. What's not easy enough is being stuck in the car with Lucas. I wouldn't be surprised if he turned the car back around and went home.

I exit the shop and surprisingly find that Lucas's Bugatti is parked right in front. This time, when I enter the car, Lucas is actually looking at me. I almost rather him not look at me because when he does, I feel it. I feel the intensity of his grayish-blue eyes on my body.

"Got what you needed?" he asks, his tone suddenly civil.

"Yeah. Thanks."

He gives me a little nod before placing his right hand on the back of my seat and reversing out of the spot.

Something tells me that Lucas always gets what he wants. Especially with girls. But I won't be like that with him. I'm not going to try for his attention. If he wants to give it to me, he can willingly, not because I'm asking for it.

It's clear that he's not going to speak up, and I'm not either. It's funny; I feel as though I can read Teddy. What you see is what you get with him. But with Lucas, it's different. He's like a broken puzzle that's almost impossible to assemble. I think he likes it that way, though. I think he prefers it that way, too.

We're 3 minutes into the ride when he catches me off-guard and finally says something.

"Hey," he calls out. My head is facing the window, so I have to turn the other way to look at him. "I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean to be an ass."

I chew on the corner of my bottom lip as I try to decipher whether or not he means it. But then I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt for both our sakes.

"It's okay," I tell him.

I go back to looking out of the window when he speaks again. "I was at my friend Marshall's house when my mom called me. He was having a few people over. I think she could hear the music in the background and knew what I was up to."

"Which was what exactly?" I can't help but pry.

He looks at me for a brief second before his eyes go back to the road. "Nothing good," he confesses.

"So why do it?"

He turns his head to quickly look at me again. "I don't know. I guess it makes me feel disconnected to the world."

"And you like that? Feeling disconnected?"

"I like that it makes me forget who I am."

I'm not understanding, so I have to ask, "Why would you want that?"

We're at a red light and he uses the time to rake his fingers through his brown hair. "Uh," he chuckles, "let's just say it's not always easy being a Bennett."

How? How could it not be easy?

"Doesn't mean that you shouldn't be proud of who you are," I tell him. "I might not know what you're feeling, but you are lucky, Lucas. You have parents who love you, who want to see you succeed. You have an incredible brother and lots of great opportunities. I'm not saying that you're not entitled to feel the way that you're feeling, but I also think that you should allow yourself to see the good, even if it may come with some bad. Life isn't black and white. There's always going to be that gray area."

He slowly nods his head and I feel a sense of comfort knowing that I might've eased him, even in the slightest.

"Thanks," is all he says, and then the light turns green.